Soft sounds against a background of gray

And rainbows falling from the quiet sky

Each prismatic droplet filled with echoes of laughter

Dewy mists existing in the places of silence

And deeply tiered puddles of wonder somewhere

Opened up, to swallow the colorful notes

Releasing their chorus in rippled musical undertow.

​

It was a canvas of swirls and little girl’s galoshes

Like a slow brush stroke painted melody

She danced in rivulets of wild-eyed fantasy

Her petals blossomed in the spring shower

Yellows struggling to grow in a sea of coals

Caught in static absence of shimmering sunlight

Only her harmonic tones lifted the canopy of clouds.

​

An old man stood staring at the portrait

of early morning rain and fancied himself

once the same, smiling at his reflection

in the pool his wrinkles replaced by troughs

of tiny waves, he saw his youth radiate again

from behind his hazy blues

as gentle evening breezes blew

through ancient greys.